


Beyond Death's Door

by Hufflehobbit_writes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Because writing was better than crying more, Canon Compliant, Drabble, Fix-It, Gen, Technicalities can make all the difference, Temporary Character Death, The gods aren't entirely evil in this, endgame spoilers, inspired by Curse of Chalion of all things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflehobbit_writes/pseuds/Hufflehobbit_writes
Summary: The Long Night is over. Noctis has sacrificed his life, the Immortal Accursed has been defeated, and the gods are ready to send Noctis on to his well-earned reward. Of course, a reward that doesn't take the interests of the recipient into account is no reward at all...





	Beyond Death's Door

**Author's Note:**

> This is hardly my best work, but unlike most of my work it's *short*. Like so many FFXV drabbles, it was very much a coping strategy for a game that broke my heart, repeatedly, and then presented the least believably "happy" afterlife scenario I've ever seen. I found it again when I was reorganizing my long FFXV fic and figured I might as well clean it up and post it. If you're waiting on my Miraculous sequel, I promise, it's not dead; I've just been dealing with some health issues that have slowed my writing down dramatically, and I haven't gotten everything out of my head into a buffer yet.
> 
> Short fic like this are *not* my strong point or my area of experience, so if you've got suggestions or constructive comments, I'd love to hear them. Feedback is the best way for me to learn, positive or negative-- although if it's negative, please help me identify how I can improve!

In the colorful nowhere of the Beyond, Noctis watched Ardyn's tortured form drift apart into a thousand shards of light. It was finally over.

He felt himself coming apart, too, now that there was no conflict to focus on, no great purpose to hold him together. The Kings and Queens of Lucis were gone. The powers granted by the Six, the Crystal, the Lucii-- powers no human however prophecied was designed to hold-- were unleashed to fulfill the Prophecy and save the world. He decayed, and drifted, and dreamed.

The sun rose, and he was everywhere. He watched its rays burn off the demon-born clouds and warmly illuminate the barren earth for the first time in ten long years. He watched the demons evaporate into smoke, and the smoke dissolve into showers of light in lesser echoes of Ardyn's end. He watched the people wake, and stare, and laugh in joy, and was satisfied, as much as there was still a "he" there to *be* satisfied.

Some tiny part of his awareness knew he was in the grim stone throne room, surrounded by rubble, cold steel through his chest and lifeblood soaking into the throne's velvet cushions; that these visions were products of shock, or final gifts from the gods, or most likely both at once. It hadn't been how he'd imagined sitting on this throne, when he was younger. He'd imagined a grander day; coronations for himself and Luna, perhaps coordinated with their second, Lucian wedding ceremony if he could persuade his father to step down before the double burdens of crown and Wall could kill him. Flowers everywhere, sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows, bells ringing, Luna and his father smiling... he could almost see it, the grey-black cold fading into something warmer and brighter and far, far happier, and he let himself dream.

"Is this what you want, then?"

As abruptly as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over him while he was sleeping, Noctis was suddenly awake, aware, and very much himself again. He was still seated in that warm flower-filled throne room, Luna at his side, but there was a dreamlike sense of unreality about the scene, in stark contrast to the very solid Gentiana standing next to him, eyes closed, patient. Umbra sat beside her, panting quietly.

"What?"

"Is this what you want? Luna, and the crown, and joys that might have been?"

"I... don't understand. I'm dead, or will be shortly. I did what you needed me to do to help my people. Why does it matter what I want?"

"The gods may ask for difficult things, but we are not ungrateful. You did what we could not; a mortal death opens the door between worlds in ways unavailable to us. Without your sacrific, the Accursed and the scourge my maddened love created would have lingered in the Beyond only to return again and begin the cycle of decay once more. Your pain and loss was an unwanted but necessary preerquisite to cleansing the world of the gods' mistakes. So we ask: what do you want?"

Noctis hesitated. "I get a choice?"

"Anything within our power. Would you move on and join the Lady Lunafreya? Seek final peace in oblivion? Travel with Umbra, living out memories of your best and brightest days?"

Voices were intruding; human voices, distant voices growing louder, out of place in the peaceful sunlit coronation chamber.

"NOCT!" a voice screamed. He knew that voice. Prompto, who always worried for his safety even in the easiest of fights. Prompto, who had cried last night when he told them what would have to happen, though he tried to pretend he hadn't to keep Noct from worrying. Prompto, who had sounded far more broken and despairing by the campfire than he had when they'd rescued him from Ardyn's torture chamber.

"We knew what to expect when the sun rose. There is no need for hysterics. Let us do what is necessary, and leave." That was Ignis, calm and unruffled Ignis, who had handled the destruction of both his personal world and the sun itself with aplomb and hard work. Someone who didn't know him might think him emotionless and unaffected, but Noctis could hear the quiet burr and slightly deeper tone in his voice that indicated he was holding himself together by the thinnest of threads, refusing to allow his duty to go unfulfilled. There was something else, there, too, that Noctis barely recognized; a soft, almost nasal congestion. Was Ignis-- *Ignis*-- crying? Noctis hadn't thought he could feel pain anymore, but his heart ached.

Gentiana was silent, watching him, eyes open. It looked like she was listening, too.

Gladio's gruff voice was next, so close that Noctis almost jumped. "I've got the sword out. Damn, he's not even cold yet. We barely missed him. I thought he must have already been gone when the sun came up..."

Prompto, high-pitched and desperate: "Can we... try a phoenix down? Should we? I mean... Bahamut just said he had to die, right? Not... stay dead...."

Noctis stared at Gentiana. "...is he right? Could I... go back?"

Something that might have been a very tiny smile quirked at the corner of Gentiana's mouth. "Anything within our power. Is that what you truly want?"

Noct turned and looked at Luna. She was watching him, now, the hazy memory of his vision now alive and smiling, eyes sparkling. "I told you I'd watch over you, Noctis. I want you to be happy, and I'm in no hurry. My last king of Lucis... you never were crowned, were you? Kings should be."

Noctis stared at her, then looked back at Gentiana. "Did you *plan* this?"

"The gods cannot force the actions of humanity. It is the devotion of those who care for you that give you *this* choice." As Gentiana spoke, the brightly-lit windows and crimson carpets began to fade, and the smells of smoke and blood overcame the sweet scent of flowers. Noctis stared down at his own pale corpse, gently propped up by a stony-looking Gladio, his father's bloody sword tossed off to one side. Prompto held a gently glowing feather in his hand, fear and determination written clearly on his tear-stained face. Ignis stood next to Prompto, his head bent to hide his almost-invisible nerves, but his shoulders were tense with anticipation. All three of them were still as statues, surrounded by floating dust motes that glimmered in the pale rosy light of the new dawn, unmoving and strange.

"Know this: if you choose to return, it may be a long time before you again have the opportunity for rest. The world has been broken, and the work to repair it will be neither simple nor short. Peace and ease, well-deserved, can be yours; but they do not lie down this path."

Noctis glanced between his three friends, frozen in time while Gentiana waited for his answer. All three of them stronger than he could imagine, waiting ten years in eternal darkness for a return that had lasted mere days, and still sending him off with all of the care and support anyone could ask for. All hurting, in a way that he-- only he? Surely not, and yet, Noctis wanted it to be him so badly-- could fix. And beyond them, his people. The survivors of a broken world he had dreamed through. He had never wanted the responsibility of the crown, but how could he turn away from them when he could help, when even one more set of hands might make a difference? He'd made his peace, but that didn't mean he *wanted* to die.

Noctis looked back at Luna, who just smiled and nodded at him, then turned to Gentiana. "I want to stay. Even if it's hard. I'm not done yet, and I can't let them down again. Not now. Not when I don't have to. They've always been there for me, it's my turn to be there for them."

"So be it."

The world faded out around him, the soft blackness rapidly acquiring unpleasant dimensions: cold, so much cold, followed by overwhelming pain and bright burning energy. He groaned, and sound returned, though he was too groggy to make out words. Prompto, high and fast and excited. Gladio, deep and laughing. Iggy, breathing erratically but calmly giving orders. There were warm arms around him, warm hands squeezing his and letting him know he wasn't alone.

Noctis had returned.

As he levered his eyes open with great effort to see his friends' joyous faces, he heard Shiva's voice whisper in his ears: "We did not plan this, but I, at least, hoped. Live well, King Noctis, and may your next death be as worthy as your first."


End file.
